


Winter

by feralphoenix



Category: Yggdra Union
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-27
Updated: 2011-06-27
Packaged: 2017-10-20 18:40:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/215907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feralphoenix/pseuds/feralphoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's winter in Bronquia. There's a blizzard outside. The castle is freezing. But Nessiah isn't cold. Really, he's not. (yeah, right.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter

The storm outside howls, gleefully heralding its evolution to full-fledged blizzard to the populace.

The castle is old. It is finely built and strong with the pride of tradition, but the icy wind finds ways to razor through the cracks in the mortar.

Nessiah isn't cold. This he swears, as he has been swearing all day, and then turns his back to blow into hands so white that the delicate tracery of veins can be seen beneath their translucent skin.

He is shaking so violently that those nearby can hear the faint chime of his chains.

Night is falling, meaning the temperature will drop another ten degrees or more.

Nessiah's rooms are at the top of one of the castle's tallest towers.

This, Gulcasa decides, is so not going to work.

\---  


"Just until we decide how to warm up your room without burning it down," Gulcasa says in that reasonable tone that makes Nessiah want to hit him.

Nessiah is going to refuse. It's kind of him to offer, but the cold hasn't killed him yet (and really, there are so many, many worse ways to die), and one more night up in his sparsely furnished rooms won't do the job.

"I have a fireplace," Gulcasa adds with a predatory grin.

Gulcasa fights dirty.

\---  


Nessiah had minced his way up the stairs in a tempest of protests and begrudgements.

He had been rendered momentarily speechless at the sight of Gulcasa's plush and _very_ warm bed, and the fire in the grate across the room from it.

He'd pointedly not watched as Gulcasa had stripped down to a pair of old pants and nothing else, and had flatly refused to remove more than his shoes and overrobe. He'd then gotten into bed and curled up as far away from Gulcasa as he could without falling off.

Now, he is snuggled tightly into the curve of Gulcasa's body, his arms around his emperor's chest, and those cold little hands are wound stubbornly into his hair. His forehead rests against Gulcasa's clavicle, with that roughly cropped tumble of dirty-blond hair spilled like silk over Gulcasa's shoulder.

It's really all Gulcasa can do to not burst out laughing.

\---  


When Gulcasa's attendants arrive that morning to drag him forcibly out of bed, they are amazed, amused, and more than a little bit disturbed to find their emperor and his closest friend suggestively tangled with the sheets and each other.

Rudely awakened, Gulcasa just lies where he is and gives them that _look._ (Nessiah is, mercifully, still asleep.)

"We don't want to know, do we?" one of the dragon knights ventures.

Gulcasa just goes "pfft" and then starts laughing.

\---  


Nessiah is sulking. All through breakfast, he remains sullen, scarlet-faced, and silent. That is, until Gulcasa sits down across from him, grinning broadly.

"I hate you," Nessiah announces baldly.

Gulcasa's smile widens. "But you _were_ warm, right?"

Nessiah kicks Gulcasa under the table.


End file.
